


bloody noses are just like roses

by orphan_account



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Casual Sex, Friends to Lovers, Hotel Sex, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Riding, Shawn's probably in love but he won't admit bc he's too tuff, Sid's down any place any time, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22854850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Slipknot's fearless leader finds himself falling for Sid on their first tour.Or, the one where Shawn's turned on by rolling in Sid's piss even though that's not the focus.
Relationships: Shawn Crahan/Sid Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	bloody noses are just like roses

**Author's Note:**

> me: i have a jim/mick fic to update  
> my brain: WRITE PORN ABOUT THE IDIOTS 
> 
> welp, that's all folks
> 
> ps. this fic is low-key inspired by the song "blood pact" by sister kill cycle. they're not very well known but they sound just like marilyn manson, y'all should check them out.

Shawn is fucking exhausted, and the only thing worse than that is being exhausted and horny. He's both on this fine evening, unfortunately, and the rest of the guys are still slugging back beers like it isn't one in the morning. Mick is the only one that seems quiet, but, then again, he's always like that. Shawn just wants to get back to the hotel room, jack off, and go to sleep. 

He wouldn't have his little problem if it wasn't for Sid egging him on the whole damn night. It wasn't even his idea to roll in Sid's fucking  _ piss  _ but he did it anyways because their gremlin of a DJ thought the crowd would love it. And, oh, they fucking did, but Shawn might've loved it even more. 

It was  _ filthy _ , and Shawn loves anything filthy. The blood, the sweat, the piss, Sid being so close to him. It was a perfect storm and he's been stuck with a hard-on since then; it's starting to feel like he's carrying a weapon of mass destruction between his legs. Shawn curses under his breath and takes another swig of his whiskey. 

"Shawn?"

Sid's voice is like nails on a chalkboard, but Shawn still turns to look at him. Sid's holding onto the bar, obviously drunk and needing something to support his light weight. He grins lazily and Shawn melts a little at his smile. "What's up?"

Smiling innocently, Sid slinks forward and stumbles into the stool across from Shawn. He grabs the glass of whiskey from Shawn and downs it like a shot; the percussionist tries not to stare when his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. 

"Can you take me home?" Sid whines. He scoots closer so their knees are touching and Shawn wishes he didn't have to blame the hand on his thigh as Sid being drunk. "Or back to the motel?" he giggles. 

Shawn rolls his eyes and tries not to think about the implications he wishes were behind that. "Why?"

Sid pouts, leaning closer every second and Shawn's beginning to feel trapped against the bar. "Cuz the guys don't wanna leave but I do and Mick said I can't go by myself. Otherwise I'd fucking ditch them." He burps and Shawn cringes. 

If he does take Sid back, the guys can have the van. Even if they're drunk, just being in that big of a group is a protective factor. Plus, he can make sure Sid's alright before going to sleep and then being rudely awoken by him stumbling back at three in the morning. 

"Yeah. Let's go. Tell Mick."

Sid pops off the stool surprisingly quickly for someone so drunk and walks towards the door even faster, not before stopping to let Mick know they're leaving. It confuses the hell out of Shawn but he follows anyways, running a hand over his face. He watches as Sid nearly trips over his baggy Dickies, chuckling to himself. 

It's a block to the hotel, full of brushing touches from Sid and drunken giggles. Shawn feels cornered, especially now that he won't be able to jerk off in peace; it seems as if Sid is teasing him on purpose. Also, it's odd how stable he is for being drunk, because Shawn is  _ all  _ too used to supporting drunk Sid. 

Sid makes sure to crowd him up against the motel room door while he's struggling with the keys. Frustrated at this point, Shawn's shocked when Sid shoves him into the room and uses his surprisingly strong weight to pin him against the wall. He kicks the door shut with his Vans and the lock clicks, making Shawn's throat constrict. 

"What the fuck?" Shawn manages to choke out. 

"Shhh." Clumsily, Sid covers Shawn's lips with a finger and the older man resists the urge to take it into his mouth. "Just hush."

So Shawn does. He's quiet when Sid curls a tattooed hand around Shawn's face. He's dead silent when Sid leans in and his breath that doesn't smell of alcohol at all fans out over his face. 

Shawn's definitely not silent when Sid kisses him, lips covering his own hungrily. He lets out a surprised grunt but can't help reciprocating, giving into those chapped lips he's fantasized about so much. It's feral and decidedly male, teeth knocking and Shawn's stubble scratching Sid's boyishly smooth face. 

They break apart for breath and Sid grins. 

That's when Shawn realizes: Sid's not drunk. Sid hasn't been drunk this whole time. 

"You're not drunk, are you?" Shawn breathes, not moving. 

"Nope. I've had three beers."

Chuckling nervously, Shawn brings a hand up to Sid's waist. It feels right and natural. "Any E's?"

"Nope. You're the drugs tonight," Sid giggles. There's a moment of silence where the two men are simply leaning against each other, then Sid mutters something that nearly knocks Shawn on his ass. "You wanna fuck me?"

"Fuck yeah." Shawn squeezes Sid's bony hips through his jeans. "You sure?" 

Sid nods. "Want you," he whines, leaning in to nip at Shawn's jaw and making the percussionist shiver. "Please?" 

The switch flips and Shawn's eyes darken with obvious lust. He's finally going to get the fantasy, get Sid. "Get on the bed."

Sid smiles, nervous giggles bubbling up as he plops onto his back on their shared bed. In typical motel fashion, the sheets are scratchy and they can almost feel the springs through the mattress. But it's enough for them. It's enough for lust and maybe something more; scruffy and a little dirty just like them. 

The DJ tugs on Shawn's jacket, muttering something that sounds like "off" but Shawn ignores him in lieu of making out. Sid's the first one to run his tongue over chapped lips but Shawn quickly catches on, shivering when their tongues brush just right. His mouth moves to Sid's ear, nipping and relishing the small, weak sound Sid makes. 

Just to get a reaction, Shawn bites down on his earlobe hard enough to make a sting and Sid delivers, groaning softly and clinging desperately to Shawn's shoulders. "Fuck - that. Do that again." 

Sid's wish is Shawn's command. He goes for the soft skin under Sid's jaw and bites, hard, sucking in order to mark his territory. Sid doesn't object, moaning quietly, and Shawn feels his throat constrict tightly. 

"Get rid of this, for fuck's sake," Sid says breathily, tugging at Shawn's jacket. 

Anxious to speed things up and his dick rearing its ugly head between his legs, Shawn obeys, taking off his hoodie and shirt and slinging them across the room. He allows Sid to sit up and do the same, quickly getting rid of his pants when Sid does. The younger man's boxers already have a wet spot on them, and Shawn takes pride in knowing that he's done it. 

Shawn crawls onto the bed, straddling Sid and trapping his hips between his knees. Sid's body makes his breath catch in his throat. It's not as if he hasn't seen it all in green rooms and backstage, but all the pale skin wrapped around his own is different. 

"Whatcha lookin' at?" 

Shawn grins up at Sid. "You're cute."

Shawn's glad the little bedside lamp is on, if not, he would've missed the blush across Sid's cheeks. "Shut up."

"I mean, it's true." Shawn rubs his hands up Sid's chest, catching his nipples and wrenching a moan out of Sid. "Oh, you like that, baby?"

"Yes, please." 

The pleading  _ really  _ gets to Shawn and he drags his nails down again. Sid's back arches off the bed, hips brushing his dick against Shawn's, and Sid lets out a strangled sound. "Please, Shawn, fuck."

Shawn's not going to lie to himself, Sid getting so flustered and being so sensitive is  _ killing  _ him, so he gives in, pinching pink skin between his nails and twisting,  _ hard.  _

"Oh, fuck," Sid groans, head rolling back and forth on the mattress. He pushes his chest towards Shawn, getting increasingly unhinged. "Shawn, please, goddamnit."

"What do you want? Tell me."

Shawn pinches hard right when Sid opens his mouth to answer. "Fucking shit, I want - fuck. I want your mouth. Please."

He sounds so fucked out already that Shawn's wondering how he's going to sound when he's taking his cock. Remembering the desperation in Sid's voice, Shawn dips his head down to suck on one nipple, nails working at the other. He can't get enough of salty skin and trembling legs wrapped around his waist. 

Tossing his head back in frustration, Sid moans, high pitched and bordering on porn-star level debauchery. His nails scrape Shawn's scalp, prompting a groan out of Shawn and thrusting his hips roughly against the other man's. 

"I'm ready, just do it," Sid commands, his voice broken and needy. "Shawn…"

Pulling his mouth away reluctantly, Shawn leans off the bed to dig lube out of his bag. He picked some up at their last stop, figuring it might come in handy and it's sure as hell going to. Sid wiggles off his briefs and takes Shawn's breath away for the second time tonight. 

His dick is fucking gorgeous if dicks can be, and immediately wants to touch, so he does. Wrapping his hand around Sid's length, it wrenches a sob out of the DJ. The slide is slick and easy due to the precum beading on his tip and it's filthy, once again, so Shawn loves it. They're gross and Shawn loves it. 

They kiss but it's angry and passionate, teeth knocking and noses pressed awkwardly together. "Just do it, baby, please," Sid begs. 

In tune with Sid and the bearer of an erection strong enough to break concrete, Shawn bends his knees back and slicks up his fingers. "You done this before?"

"No." 

Shawn tries to push out the thought of how much that turns him on. "Just breath, relax. It'll feel good."

Their eyes meet and Sid looks so enamored and trustworthy it triggers Shawn's protective instincts. It's part of what attracts him to Sid, the youthfulness and trust without question that he wishes he still had. "I trust you."

It's a simple statement that shouldn't make Shawn's eyes prickle but it does and he takes a small moment to admire it. Shaking it off so Sid doesn't notice, he reaches a hand between the DJ's legs and presses a finger against his entrance. 

Sid inhales shakily, biting his lip as Shawn presses in. It's a painful stretch, even with a lot of lube, and Shawn feels bad, but he knows the first knuckle is the worst. 

"It's okay, baby, breathe."

Nodding, Sid exhales shakily, but chokes up a sob when Shawn's knuckle pops past the tight ring of muscle. He brings his fist up to his mouth to cover the sounds of pain, but Shawn is quick to remove it. "Don't. I want to hear everything, understand?"

Moving his hands to the sheets and gripping them so hard his knuckles turn white, Sid nods, slipping his legs around Shawn's waist. It's a little more comfortable of an angle, and it's got Sid moaning in no time. The slide becomes slick and easy, so Shawn adds a second finger and starts to search for the spot that will make Sid scream. 

"Shawn, come on," Sid whines and writhes in frustration. "I'm ready."

"Just hold on, baby." Shawn scissors his fingers, firmly stretching Sid and pressing in at the same time. He nearly loses himself in the tight heat that's enveloping his fingers before he remembers what he's looking for. Crooking his fingers, Shawn finds that bundle of nerves that makes Sid sound like he's dying. 

His back arches up off the bed and a moan that's bordering on pornographic leaves Sid's mouth. It's debauched, filthy, _ absolutely wrecked.  _ Sid's gasping and choking on his moans, and Shawn keeps rubbing the pads of his fingers against the spot, seeing just how worked up he can get Sid. 

Shawn screeches to a halt when he feels Sid tighten and that telltale moan of being close to exploding. The only way Sid's going to get off is Shawn's dick. Sid takes a gasping breath before looking up at Shawn, eyes lidded and radiating pure sex. 

"Can I ride you?" 

Shawn wasn't aware Sid could read minds, but he nods and doesn't acknowledge how perfect the suggestion is. Their bodies slide together, Shawn's boxers end up on the lamp, and Sid ends up on his lap. 

The young, eager DJ immediately starts grinding their dicks together and Shawn swears by every god he doesn't believe in. "Sid, calm down."

Shawn drizzles lube over himself and Sid watches as he pumps himself a few times. Eventually, Sid stops him and gets on his knees. Shawn doesn't want to admit to holding his breath but he does, exhaling when Sid's fully seated. 

"Sid… Jesus fucking Christ."

The DJ's hair hangs down, casting his youthful face in shadows and curls. His nails anchor themselves into Shawn's shoulders, back straight and breath shallow. "Move." Sid sounds broken, and Shawn hates himself for liking it. 

But he's not heartless. "Look at me, baby." Sid brushes his hair out of his face and looks back up at Shawn, tears shining on his cheeks. "We can stop any time you want. You say the word, we're done. I want you to be okay."

Sid shakes his head defiantly and Shawn's heart swells with pride; Sid's so brave. "Okay. But I really want you to fuck me now."  _ There's  _ the Sid he knows and loves. Impatient, blunt, and horny. "Please," he whines, voice cracking. 

Shawn's a slave to the filth coming out of Sid's mouth so he rolls his hips up hard, just to shock Sid. It works and Sid starts meeting his thrusts, rocking back and forth. Shawn can tell it's still not hitting right for Sid so he puts a hand on his stomach and pushes back lightly. 

Getting the hint, Sid leans back, planting his hands between Shawn's legs. The next thrust literally makes his eyes roll back in his head, and a wrecked moan leaves his mouth. The angle is dead on for both of them, luckily, and Shawn feels so close already. 

It's just a dirty hookup in a dirty motel and he knows that but he can't just ignore how into Sid is. He's moaning and whimpering these little  _ shit, yeah, pleases  _ like a fucking pornstar and it's driving Shawn crazy. He's determined to get the younger man off before him so he angles his hips a bit to the left and slams into Sid, gripping his tattoed, bony hips. 

" _ Fuck _ ! Shawn," Sid groans, and Shawn catches a lustful glimpse of him licking his chapped lips, sweat practically dripping down his neck. "'M close." 

He can tell. Sid's seizing up around him repeatedly and threatening to drag him under the waves alongside him. The DJ gasps when Shawn wraps a hand around his leaking dick, his fist a blur. Their rhythm is falling apart, so unlike how in-tune they are onstage. 

It's so close that Shawn's not entirely sure who breaks first. All he knows is that it's the best goddamn orgasm he's ever had; it hit him like a fucking semi. Sid's whining incoherent noises mixed in with Shawn's name and they're on cloud nine. 

Shawn sits up and pulls Sid into a kiss, hand on the back of his head. It's hot and messy and there's jizz all over them but it doesn't matter. 

"We should, uh, do this again sometime," Sid pants. He sounds hopeful, the end of his sentence going up like a question. 

Shawn chuckles and gently nuzzles Sid's nose with his own. "I'd fucking love that."

"Round two, then?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
